


War of Hearts

by gaycrepes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Cheating, Demisexual Sherlock Holmes, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual John Watson/Mary Morstan, Eventual Mary Morstan/John Watson, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forced Marriage, Forced Relationship, Greg is gay, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Mycroft is gay, NSFW, Period Typical Homophobia, Praise Kink, Royalty AU, Sherlock is a Brat, Sherlock’s Praise Kink, greg loves sherlock, idk how to tag, mycroft is an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:09:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaycrepes/pseuds/gaycrepes
Summary: Sherlock is a knight of the Royal Guard, he is the highest rank a knight can be and works very closely with The King. They spend almost every day together and grow close over many years. Meanwhile his childhood friend, John Watson, is a peasant boy with little money and food whom dreams of having the life that Sherlock lives. Many events occur which leads Sherlock to believe that the Royal life isn’t just dragon slaying and sword fighting, his sworn loyalty to The King becomes a sour taste in his mouth as his brother, Duke Mycroft Holmes shows him it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Join your favorite characters as they embark on the most treacherous journey of all, falling in love.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade/Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade/Sherlock Holmes, John Watson/Mary Morstan, Mary Morstan/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	1. The Big Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I’m really very terrible at writing summaries so please excuse that, also this is incredibly historically inaccurate so please click away if that’s not your cup of tea. Also if you are a strictly Johnlock shipper, please click away, this is a mostly Sherstrade fic and I don’t want any ship war/hate on my first work in this fandom! Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoy!

Blades crashed against blades, a brunette male, clad in metallic armor from head to toe, lunged at the shorter male in front of him, before being blocked with the opponent’s sword. The knight’s patience running thin, he took a few steps back, resuming his position and throwing down his weapon. He then, swiftly kicked it away with his foot and tackled the apprentice to the ground.

“What the bloody hell, Sherlock!” The other male tried to yell, his blade falling onto the dirt with a soft thump as Sherlock held him in a choke hold, blocking the airways to his lungs. “That’s Sir Holmes to you, John.” Sherlock chuckled in amusement as he tightened his grip, only removing his hands once John was the most grotesque shade of purple.

“You really need to practice more, your technique is horrible.” Sherlock added as he raised up, offering his hand for John to grab on to. “Many thanks but really, I’m fine, you know I hate these kinds of things.” John said as he followed suit, standing up and attempting to dust the dirt off of his only pair of pants.

“Indeed I do, but this is your dream right? To become a knight like me, maybe one day you’ll even become The King.” Sherlock replied with less than a normal grin, a genuine smile that could light up a room, as he grabbed his weapon from the ground. Having gone inside his own mind, repeating the look of the king’s face when he had done something particularly well, patting down his curls as if he were a stray dog and ordering him on more missions than he could count.

But it was all worth it, to be close to The King, the man who treated his knight as something other than a ravenous monster. The man who saved him from being hanged for using “witchcraft”.

Although Sherlock had originally planned on becoming an Alchemist at a young age, he did not believe there was such a thing as magic. It was all just overactive imagination paired with the belief of a fictional being and a sprinkle of fear, but he couldn’t help wanting to make old substances into new ones, in hope of modernizing the otherwise archaic way of living.

John waved his hand over Sherlock’s face snapping every so often until Sherlock came out of his dreamlike state. “What were you thinking about?” John inquired, raising his eyebrow as Sherlock’s cheeks tinted pink. “Nothing, nothing at all, stop looking at me like that!” he yelled frantically before John could burst into laughter “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, Holmes, what’s her name?”

“E-excuse me?” Sherlock gawked, bewildered at the sheer thought of being with a woman. Sherlock had barely put much thought towards carnal desires and even less thought into women. “Dammit Holmes, you are flesh and blood! You have, you must have...” John exclaimed, frustrated, Sherlock’s eyes widening.

“What?” Sherlock asked, puzzled at what the shorter male was trying to say in every means but speaking. “You know...” John replied nervously as Sherlock tilted his head in confusion, John sighing loudly in response. “Impulses.,” he replied hesitantly and Sherlock looked down, shaking his head vigorously. “Pass me your blade, I have a sudden urgency to use it.” Sherlock cried before sheathing his own.

John only laughed softly, walking beside the dramatic knight, keeping pace with the other male as he began walking faster. “Well I think you’d be great for Mary.” John said with a wiggle of his eyebrows after a long and comfortable silence “Mary, soon-to-be Queen of Scots? You’re just asking for my head.” Sherlock snickered, knowing all too well who Mary belonged to.

“Well what about Ms. Hawkins?” John suggested, Sherlock wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Janine, the peasant girl? I’d rather jump-“ Sherlock stopped himself from finishing his thoughts, remembering the pain his staged death had caused and the fact that John, was in fact, a peasant himself.

“Don’t you have places to be?” John asked after a few more moments walking beside each other. “Oh yes I better be off, tomorrow’s the big day!” Sherlock replied with fake excitement, running backwards as he waved goodbye then disappeared into the crowded market in the direction of the castle.

“What a strange man.” John muttered to himself as he briefly thought about what it might be like to spend a day in the palace, to spend a day without poverty, to enjoy the pampered and luxurious life that Sherlock lived.

Back at the palace, Sherlock flopped onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling in his quarters. A ceiling which one could see the sky, the sky which was painted with vibrant pinks and purples, the sun peaking through, adding oranges and yellows to the plethora of colors that danced with the passing clouds.

Just as he began to drift into a deep and peaceful slumber a pounding came at the door. “The king wishes to speak with you, my lord.” one of the servants spoke through the door as Sherlock turned over and rubbed his eyes groggily “be right there!” Sherlock called out, but noticed that the footsteps had already traveled towards the dining area.

“Oh this shall be fun.” he scoffed, taking off his bedroom wear in favor of his favorite tunic, a dark blue velvet one with silver trim and matching trousers, the tunic, adorned with the coat of arms, a simple yet powerful reminder of his status and loyalty to the king.

He trekked down the stairs after roughing his hair up a bit, the fluffy curls returning to the otherwise matted down look that his helmet was to blame for. He quickly made his way to the dining hall, as fast as his feet allowed, sprinting towards the door which he slowly and carefully opened.

“You’re late.” Queen Mary turned to the male who looked like he’d just competed in an ancient gladiatorial chariot battle. “My apologies, my Queen” Sherlock took a knee, then took his seat at the round table, the chair to the left of The King.

The King then turned to Sherlock and spoke “We’ve just got word that you were supposed to be hunting down a lindworm that’s been in the area, did you get around finding one?” The King asked and Sherlock squirmed uncontrollably under his gaze “Well no, but I just found out who mur-“

“Let us know once you’ve found one, we need you to do your job to keep us all safe, it’s my wedding tomorrow for Christ sakes!” The King yelled, anxious at the thought of having to marry for the sake of their land and not for the way his heart felt.

“Yes sir, of course sir.” Sherlock looked down in disappointment and grave sadness at the thought of marriage between The King and soon-to-be Queen.

“You’re all dismissed, except for Sherlock, I have important mission details for you.” The King said before the rest of the table scattered away and up to their respective rooms, including the Queen who reluctantly agreed and waited for The King in their wing.

“Why did you call me by my name?” Sherlock asked before thinking, looking at the king in his eyes, hopeful but reluctant. The King laughed softly before leaning back in his chair “So. The big question.” “Mhmm...” Sherlock looked down, waiting for his whole life to come crashing around him, waiting to lose his position in the Royal Guard.

He didn’t want to beg, that would be far too much, that would make him look desperate and in no way was Sir Sherlock Holmes ever desperate, especially not when he had always been The King’s right-hand man. “The best man, what do you think?” The King continued. “Oh you sire of course it’s you.” Sherlock smiled before The King sighed loudly “for my wedding.” he grimaced.

“Sir Kincaid of Camden, one of the best men I’ve ever known, he’s helped orphanages, peasants, the whole-“ Sherlock began before being interrupted by the King taking his hand and putting it on his own. “Yes, but he’s not my best friend.” Sherlock’s heart began to beat harder, so hard that he could barely hear his thoughts.

“Oh, John Watson, yes he’s quite nice, a little prudish though, he loves his mother to death, definitely a family man which-“ Sherlock was interrupted once more. “No, that’s _your_ best friend.” The King rubbed his temples in frustration. “It’s you, you’re my best...” The King began, Sherlock interrupting “I’m your best...” the two finishing the sentence at the same time they practically shouted the word “friend.”

Sherlock inhaled sharply, trying to process what had just occurred, how they had admitted to each other that what they had, had been more than just a royal obligation. “Also my name is Gregory, you can call me that, as long as you don’t do it in front of anyone else, my wife doesn’t even know it yet, she’ll find out tomorrow.” The King admitted, letting go of Sherlock’s hand, the only thing that was grounding the knight.

“What?” Sherlock shouted once more, he wondered to himself how anyone could keep such a huge secret for their whole life, and then he remembered that he’d had incredibly “disrespectful” thoughts about the king since he first took him in.

“Yes, now that you know, you absolutely have to keep it a secret, I trust you, also I have to be going, my wife will have a fit if I don’t, but come by my room at nine in the evening, Wednesday night after the ball, we have a lot of catching up to do.” Greg rambled on then raised from his seat and ran off, in a hurry to get back to his demanding fiancé.

“What do we have to catch up on? We spend every day together!” Sherlock yelled after him, the other male’s voice trailing off as he made it down the hallway “you’ll see!” he called and Sherlock frowned, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed, he didn’t like surprises, even if it were from his king. 


	2. Brother Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just filler and I actually despise this chapter so uhhhhh yeah.

Morning arrived just as soon as the night had gone. Sherlock lay on his comfortable mattress under piles of big thick blankets, his eyes fluttered open at the warmth and light that filled the room from a nearby window. A note sat on a tray, on his bedside table along with a piping cup of tea and a small plate of biscuits. 

Sherlock wondered how long the tray had been sitting there, considering the contents were still hot. He also couldn’t help but wonder who put them there each morning as he rose from his bed, picking up the small piece of paper, emblazoned with the coat of arms in the right-hand corner.

It read _“Your brother will be here at sunrise, he will be staying until Friday, be on your best behavior.” - G._

“Oh sard that!” Sherlock shouted to himself, tossing the note as far as he could. Today he would have to escape, whether it was The King’s wedding, he would have to hide at John’s until Friday, that was all he could do to avoid his brother’s scrutiny.

“Yoohoo” a woman called from outside Sherlock’s door before turning the handle and peeking her head in. “Mrs. Hudson?” Sherlock asked, his grim disposition brightening slightly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth at the sight of a familiar face. 

“The ceremony is going to begin soon.” Mrs. Hudson replied, Sherlock’s smile dropping once more.  “What ceremony?” asked Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson staring in disbelief. “The wedding! The King and Queen are getting married!”

“Ah yes, that, and what’s important about that?” Sherlock chuckled softly, hiding the tears that threatened to leave his tear ducts with his undershirt’s sleeves.

“Oh my, are you crying, dear?” Mrs. Hudson asked as Sherlock finally cracked. “What exactly is your function?!” Sherlock asked furiously, a tear making its way down his cheek.  Mrs. Hudson tutted “This is about that rapscallion brother of yours isn’t it, Duke Mycroft Holmes was it?” 

“It’s always about him, I just wish I had been born an only child.” Sherlock admitted, recalling the many treacherous encounters they had and the abuse he had endured from his elder sibling. 

“Try not to think about it, he’s not staying for long I’m sure.” Mrs. Hudson reassured the male, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled the woman into a hug. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, in my heart I’ve always liked you, even when I’m at my angriest.” He smiled sadly, sniffing before pulling away from the hug, wiping away his tears as he struggled not to cry once more. 

“Alright, now what shall I wear?” Sherlock tapped his foot on the cobblestone floor in thought, opening his wardrobe to reveal his extensive collection of tunics and trousers.

Sherlock took a few looks in the mirror, satisfied with his choice of attire and hairstyle. He sprinkled a bit of rose water on his wrists and then on his neck, taking a few moments to calm his nerves with the soft and familiar scent he tended to use on special occasions, much to the other knight’s disapproval.

He hesitantly walked downstairs to the open and welcoming doors of the dining room. He despised the sight which met his eyes when he peered inside, watching his brother in his chair at the round table, practically smothering his king. 

The knight greeted the king with a small smile “King Gavin, Brother mine.”“Gavin?”Mycroft raised his eyebrows in surprise, “you’re on a first name basis?” he asked, an offended tinge to his voice that made Sherlock smirk in satisfaction.

“That’s not my name.” King Gregory laughed in amusement, seeing what Sherlock was doing as he smiled up at him. “Oh yes King George, you are quite right.” he winked at The King before pulling up a seat and sitting between his brother and The King.

“What exactly is going on here?” Mycroft wrinkled his nose in disgust “Sentiment?” he inquired, Sherlock gasped in response “What do you take me for, Brother dear?” he scoffed nervously before the king clanked his glass with his fork and stood. They were told to make their way towards the main entrance of the chapel attached to the left wing of the castle. 

Many minutes later, Sherlock stood near The King and soon-to-be Queen as they recited their vows, Sherlock grew tense and nervous as he turned his head away, the couple kissing to seal their arrangement. 

Once it was all said and done, Sherlock excused himself to his room once more, escaping from the crowd and grabbing a couple of worn downed books from his book shelf. They were obviously about murder, unsolved ones and solved ones alike, his bookmark on a page with a killing which he had recently solved in his head and had tried to explain the verdict to The King a fortnight ago, his findings falling on deaf ears. 

Sherlock had never wished for tomorrow so badly in his life, he stared up at the stars in the sky as he recollected the words The King had spoken after telling him his given name, nights before. “Wednesday” Sherlock mumbled, something in his mind told him everything would change for the better, call it “intuition” or “witchcraft”, Sherlock called it trusting his heart, something he rarely ever allowed himself to do.


	3. Masks and Mayhem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone I want to cry because I’m so confused as to whether capitalize “The King” or not so I’m sorry if this is a mess, I also don’t have a Beta reader so if you’re interested in becoming mine please please please let me know! Without further ado here’s chapter 3!

Sherlock let out a muffled shout as a shorter, leaner, male pushed him against the wall into a dark corner of the castle. Sherlock silently cursed himself for leaving his weapon in the ballroom just as he went on a bathroom break, before the attacker removed his mask, revealing his face, then removed his hand from Sherlock’s mouth for a few moments. 

“John!?” He shouted before the man quickly covered his mouth once more “What are you doing here?” Sherlock mumbled under the other male’s hand, it’s smell of freshly cut grass. “I snuck in, pretended to be a gardener, it’s a masquerade after all.” John responded, cautiously removing his hand from Sherlock’s mouth once again.

“I see, you’ve cleaned up very well by the way, almost didn’t recognize you.” Sherlock smiled deviously as John rolled his eyes. “Stop flirting with me, it’s not decent.” John pulled away then punched his shoulder, Sherlock letting out a pained noise in response.

“When have I ever been decent?” He retorted, “oh and Geoff is spending time with my brother of all people” he added, looking hurt and disappointed “Who?” John asked in concern “The King, King Geoff” he insisted, John holding back his laughter “You mean King Gregory?” he asked as Sherlock’s eyes widened “How do you know his name?” he responded in shock.

“What do you mean? He said it in his marriage vows, he has to, word spread like wildfire.” John said bluntly, staring at Sherlock’s face as it disfigured with pain. “It’s okay though, I really don’t think he has any interest in a man, I mean just look at him dancing with his wife.” John chuckled as he pointed toward the seemingly happy couple who danced together in the distance. 

“She’s not right for him.” Sherlock said suddenly between gritted teeth, John looking puzzled at the sudden change in tone “And why is that?” John asked curiously, expecting a string of deductions as usual. “Because she was staring at you for the past five songs, pupils dilated, love at first sight I’d say.” Sherlock said as he adjusted his collar, strolling towards the ballroom once again.

“Me? Mary Queen of Scots was looking at me? Are you sure?” John asked in disbelief, wondering how someone as proper and rich could even notice a poor commoner like him. “Yes, well, we shall meet back up later, I play the rebec for the band as you’ve seen, must get back into battle.” He looked back at John and flashed him another smile before disappearing into the crowd of masked guests. 

As Sherlock went to his normal spot on stage and grabbed his instrument, he watched King Gregory leave his wife to grab their wine chalices which were located on the other side of the room. 

John Watson, who was pretending to be the royal gardener, used this opportunity to slide past the maidens and lads, reaching the queen, who he quietly and discreetly asked for a dance. She accepted the offer with glee, John’s expression deepening with excitement and more importantly, hope.

Once the final dance was done, Sherlock sat down his rebec and went back to his seat beside King Gregory, who was eating a slice of rhubarb pie.

“You were great out there, how’d you ever learn to play like that?” The king asked, Sherlock blinking slowly at the praise, it sending shivers down his spine.

“It’s nothing really, just following the sheet music.” Sherlock muttered as he attempted to calm his breathing. “It didn’t look like nothing, you’re bloody amazing!” King Gregory insisted, Sherlock balling his hands into fists, his manicured nails pressing into his skin, the only way he could ground himself. 

Sherlock’s ears grew hot as he continued to dig his nails into his palms. “Mhm thanks, more wine?” he replied, standing up from his chair. “I just got some earlier, don’t forget to meet me in my room in thirty minutes, I’ll be going up there now.” King Gregory reminded Sir Sherlock Holmes who gulped nervously. 

Sherlock anxiously thought of what might be in store for him as the king left and the knight paced furiously, “What if I make a complete fool of myself? What if he notices that I have feelings for him? Will he behead me on the spot? I simply cannot risk it, maybe I’ll just sneak back to my room and hide there until he forgets.” Sherlock thought to himself, looking over briefly at John and Queen Mary who seemed to be having the time of their lives.

“Enjoying the party? I heard Greg has his eye on you, brother mine, you should go.” Mycroft smiled vindictively. “Ughhh God! Would you just leave me alone?!” Sherlock shouted, heads turning towards the commotion as he tugged on his own hair in frustration.

“Oh so you want me to take your place then? I’d be honored to-“ Mycroft began again, Sherlock storming off in the direction of the King’s and Queen’s quarters “Sard off, Mycroft!” He yelled as he made his way down the corridor.

Once Sherlock made it to their bedroom's door, he took a few deep breaths, reassuring himself that no matter what occurred, everything would be fine. He hesitantly knocked on the door, King Gregory opening it with haste, coaxing Sherlock in and directing him to sit at the foot of his bed. 

“So, what am I here for, Greg?” Sherlock accentuated the other male’s name as he questioned, leaning back into the mattress that practically swallowed his tall frame. The King smiled brightly in return at finally being recognized by his given name, satisfaction washing over him. 

“I was wondering if you might want to talk about those murders of yours.” The King suggested, the younger male laughing maniacally before sighing softly “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing about that I promise.” Sherlock reassured the other male as he attempted to catch his breath.

“Yes, Helen Louise, killed by her servant’s brother if you couldn’t believe, enough of that though, what do you really want?” Sherlock pressed on, tired of beating around the bush, ignoring the elephant in the room. 

“Well, I do have a small favor.” The king looked away nervously just as Sherlock knelt at his feet “Now we’re getting somewhere.” the younger smirked. “Can I kiss you?” He replied, much to Sherlock’s delight before untying Sherlock’s mask, pulling it away from his face, the younger’s heart racing as he tried not to scream his love and devotion to the world. “Do what you want with me, your highness.” he muttered before the king dipped down to Sherlock’s lips, brushing them against his own before swiping his tongue across the other’s bottom lip.


End file.
